Roman

The Blighted Kingdom

M A P O F T H E R E A L M:

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VASILIUS, THE SEAT OF THE KING

Vasilius is unquestionably the kingdom's capital city, and the center of the realm for all major trade, academics, and political players. A vast and proud city, its streets and boroughs stretch forth from a focal point at the High Throne, which stands at the very center of the royal palace within the Garland Citadel. From here, High Lord Jocun presides with his wife, Queen Vesindra, his infant son, Prince Dahtun, and his many advisors, chief among them the Royal Warlock, Aborran.

Jocun is the fifth of his bloodline to rule the realm, and while many would admit him to be a strong and fair king, many others would question his conflictingly brazen and mysterious manner, some even citing arrogance and a blasé nature due to his family's long-uncontested rule.

What everyone can agree on, however, is the sheer toll that the Stone Blight is taking on the kingdom, with swathes of dead across the continent, and the psychological damage to the citizens by the unassuaged dread. Whether Jocun and those close to him are near a cure or not, no one can say - but every day that passes with the palace's silence is another day of growing unease across the kingdom at large.

EERUM, THE ARID BURG

Eerum, far south and deep within the Sychan Desert, was the first city to be discovered and assimilated into Vassidia and the kingdom of the Garland Lineage, rather than settled by Vassidian citizens proper. Originally a simple shared camping grounds and makeshift marketplace for the few aboriginal tribes of the desert, the tribal identity of the natives was worn away as trade routes and supply lines were opened, feeding barons and couriers into the desert, and allowing Eerum to become a township proper, rather than a few tents propped up around a vital spring of water.

Life in Eerum remains not without its hardships: the heat scorches the ground, making farming exceptionally difficult; trade routes bear caravans rarely, as few are capable of or willing to brave the desert, and fewer still make successful enough journeys to justify the expenditure versus the profit; water is scarce, and the single spring of freshwater that lies within Eerum's central square seems to run lower than ever. Those that 'make it' out here are barely more successful than a modest farmer in the mainland, and those than don't are beggars, dying beggars, or dead.

There is a growing unrest in Eerum - an anger in the people that surpasses anything felt in Vassidia proper. The palace has promised more frequent supply caravans, but the Stone Blight takes its toll on the kingdom, and Eerum is far from the only suffering community in need. The Sychan Desert, it seems, is set to swallow the city whole, like many before it - if the Stone Blight, or Eerum's own citizens, don't spell its downfall first.

KAFAARA, HOME OF THE PIOUS

Kafaara is the seat of power for the kingdom's dominant religion: the Barbed Church. Believers that the world, and all that inhabits it, are children of a great font of Magick, their first priests settled here long ago and built their first altar, which soon grew to a village, a town, and eventually an outright city centered around what was now a great cathedral.

For those who do not subscribe to the lessons and sermons given by the Church's many ministers, including their chief Pontiff Silvene, the First Thorn, and her Circle of Barbs, their practices can seem cultish, violent, and taboo; but for the Church's many followers, the rituals involved are a harmless, day-to-day appreciation of life and those who live it.

Kafaara is a wealthy city - no small thanks to the numerous donations made to the Church - and rich in culture, with many foreign followers of the Church making pilgrimages at least once in their life. It is a center for research against the Blight, though recently far more has been going into the city than has been coming out...

FERROS, THE IRON CITY

Ferros was first settled by a prolific blacksmith who discovered rich iron veins in the hills behind, and quickly seized the opportunity to begin a mining operation and become the early kingdom's nearly sole source of quality forged iron. Eventually the blacksmith's settlement grew and grew, and the iron was used to turn a hamlet into an armoured citadel, with great iron walls and gates and watchtowers.

The great iron city became a beacon for all ambitious and enterprising individuals, many would-be entrepeneurs trying - and often failing - to begin their fateful climbs to Vassidia's capital heights. The day-to-day proceedings of the city are guided by the Iron Council, a select group of rich and powerful individuals who lend a steady hand to the city's - and through it, the kingdom's - economy.

Recently, however, a usually booming hub of commerce has closed its gates and shut its markets - and more worryingly, its mines. The Council remains stubbornly silent to envoys and messengers, and the King grows impatient...

MARISMA, HEART OF THE MARSH

Marisma was founded by a small sect of zealous druids who has exiled themselves out of disgust for what they viewed as 'hedonistic excesses of man's machinations'. They traveled deep into the far south-west of the continent and had discovered there a sprawling marsh that encompassed an entire county's worth of land. It was in the heart of this marsh that they constructed their first homes amongst the trees and the swamp, many of them fashioning living spaces from huge, naturally-formed hollows with the trees themselves.

In the present era, Marisma is a naturalist's paradise, never really moving on from its forest-worshiping roots, and its inhabitants enjoys a straight-forward, if at times meager, living; simple survival within one of Vassidia's largest natural wonders. The people are friendly, provided you respect their beliefs and rules, and understanding of those who choose a life beyond the borders of the Great Marsh - though they still spurn most modern advances in smithing, economy, and agriculture.

There are rumours of a resurgence - perhaps reappearance - of those ancient druids, and more presently of unexplained disappearances. The Marsh feels thicker and more cloying than ever, and its previously open citizens grow more paranoid about each other and more fearful of the swamp every day - though everyone still staunchly refuses to leave...

MORNFELL ON MOUNTAINSIDE

Mornfell-on-Mountainside is potentially the oldest city of Vassidia, perhaps even out-dating the capital; although such rumours are easy to spread, given its relatively recent discovery on the far side of the Eastern Border Mountain-range, and difficult to quell, given the city archivists' reluctance to share their history with 'foreigners'.

Unquestionably the most inhospitable city of the kingdom, it owes its ruthless reputation to both the brutality of its mountainous location, and the xenophobia of its people. At its core is a towering, colossal bonfire - sustained by massive quantities of fuel and closely-guarded magick - out of which the city proper spirals its streets, channeling the fire down its main causeways to be siphoned into homes and buildings to supply the people with the heat vital to their survival. Many in the city blame their misfortunes on the opening of their gates to the rest of the kingdom - blame they do not spare the Stone Blight of either.

Lately, an already icy city has grown colder still, and its gates - once open in defiance of its people - are now closed in defiance of its High Lord. Still, scouts consistently report that its fire burns hotter, larger, brighter than ever, and many are left to wonder who remains within the mountain to tend to the flames.

The Blighted Kingdom

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T H E B L I G H T E D K I N G D O M

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P R E M I S E:

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Vassidia is a plagued land.

The people are not unfamiliar with sickness; under the Garland lineage, the kingdom has already suffered and survived the Wailing Death, the Red Plague, the Ursine Pox. The cities know how to quarantine, how to detect, how to treat and experiment with cures. Vassidia is not unfamiliar with sickness; but this is not a mere sickness.

The citizens see it every day; cracked statues, eery in their accuracy of form, mottled ruby chunks bursting from cracks that run across their entire surface. They depict agony, despair, rage and resignation. In the first weeks, before word spread and knowledge grew, the rubies were stolen, chiselled, even thought to be lucky. Now, with wisdom of terrible truth, they are avoided, demolished, known to be cursed. The statues are no depiction; they are the last living moments of those victim to the Stone Blight, captured forever in petrified rock.

Across the continent, beggars and barons alike are developing blisters and boils that burst into encrusted maroon gemstones, fat and dewy rubies that begin to spread lethargy and dullness as quickly as they do a cracked, hard black skin rash that grows to encase the victim as the metamorphosis continues internally. Nearly every resource the kingdom possesses is now dedicated towards a cure for the accursed blight that has seized the kingdom.

The High Lord Jocun is running out of hope, and his subjects moreso. From his seat, he has called for adventurers, mercenaries, academics, peasants, nobility - anyone willing to travel the continent in search of answers. Many have departed; few have completed their journey. Fewer still have returned.

Vassidia is a plagued land. How will you fare against the blight?

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OOC is now OPEN! Come Join!

Before The Dawn

Sheet should be up today, just working on some finishing touches and got some errands to run today.

Before The Dawn

Sounds wonderful, although I do need to take some time to go through the world info on iwaku in full. I have a few existing character concepts that would work in the setting, and I’ll discuss them with you over discord or wherever to find the bet fit.

Absolute Comics: Rebirth

_{B O O K I - G E N E S I S}

A TROUPE OF SINNERS

WEST OF THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER

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^{November, 2017 | NORTH-WEST BOUND TRAIN LINE}

Dani could see a storm broaching the horizon from across the treeline, and with November bringing short days and long nights, she had little time left to secure herself safe passage. She had found the fenced-off railway easily - the barman had not been lying after all, though she had never doubted his sincerity - and after scaling the chain-link paneling and dropping deftly down on the other side she had begun to walk beside it heading North-East. Hopefully a cargo train would pass her before the sun fell completely, but she had not heard the telltale rumble from the tracks yet, and she whipped her head around in paranoia at every rustle and chirrup and gust of wind. The man in the corner of the bar played on Dani's mind, his smirk and stare still seemingly upon her even now, somehow watching through the walls and terrain and growing darkness.

A twig snapped somewhere beyond the fence to Dani's 5'o'clock and she stopped mid-step, stanced like a runner and poised to flee or fight depending on what emerged from the bushes. A few seconds went by, the whole universe silent and still - and then a hare hopped out from a the tall grass, breaking the treeline to take a quick glance around before it darted back in and out of sight. Dani sighed as she released the breath she had been unwittingly holding and unfroze herself, giving herself a light and nervous chuckle to try and relieve some pent-up tension. The moment passed and the air seemed to pop, and Dani carried on along the railway.

She had walked maybe another half-mile, growing ever more concerned about the waning sun with each step, when a low rumble started to emanate from the old iron of the train tracks beside her, some of the more aged and worn wooden slats beginning a subtle rattling as a train approached. Dani felt a mix of relief and nervous eargerness blossom in her chest, and took a few steps to the side, turning around in order to walk backwards so she could watch what was approaching. Maybe one or two miles down the line, she saw a massive, cargo-laden locomotive, and she steeled herself to leap aboard - a young stowaway, following half-knowledge towards an optimistic redemption, and fleeing the naive, selfish choices that had damned her in the first place.

Wrapped up in her own recent history, Dani had not heard the footsteps behind her over the growing cacophony of the incoming train, and only realized she was not alone when she walked backwards into a cold and broad body. Her pursuers had caught up.

Before she could turn, or even gasp in shock or terror, there was a bag thrust over her head and the world went black - only for it to leave completely as something hard hit her forcefully on the back of her skull, and she dropped to her knees, consciousness dropping out to the sound of the passing train beside them. Klick-klack, klick-klack, klick-klack - and then there was only klick- then nothing.

-

When Dani re-surfaced to the waking world, that steady back-and-forth rattle returned with her, accompanied by the blurred whooshing of wind and rain and low murmurs from somewhere behind her. The murmurs ceased as their owners noticed Dani's movement as she tried to sit up, and then heavy footsteps came towards her, boots on reinforced wood, before the world flooded in as the bag was ripped off and then whited-out with flashing pain as the same boots came around and kicked her hard in the side. She sprawled out onto the floor and felt ribs crack in her torso, but at the same time, within her, the devil she harboured snarled and lashed back. Dani knew it was a matter of minutes, if not mere seconds, before she would lose all control, and turned her head to face her attackers.

The man from the bar. Hair as slick as ever, his eyes were a gleaming ethereal yellow, and his skin - in the bar it had been only aged and weathered with sweat and dirt - was now actively cracked and shedding from his face. Behind him were two more similarly-faced men, their own veneers failing far more rapidly than that of their ringleader's. Dani looked out at the blackened night sky through the open side of the carriage she had been hauled into, and was met by the watchful orb of the full moon through parting storm clouds before they closed up again, and the rain doubled-down in its intensity. The men - though it was long since she had suspected her aggressors of being mere men - had sealed their own fate. She could feel the heat from her hands already.

"You've got maybe a few seconds before this goes very badly for you." She spat, words dripping with a mix of anger and fear. The man just kicked her again.

"Shut up. We're not here to talk to you. Why do you think you're even still alive?" His voice sounded like writhing maggots. She spat blood, and it bubbled with heat.

"Buddy," she replied, flexing her hands as the heat reached the base of her skull, "I'm the only one here who's gonna be leaving alive."

Dani stood, and her eyes were full of fire.

Absolute Comics: Rebirth

_{B O O K I - G E N E S I S}

THESE BOOTS

MISSISSIPPI RIVER NORTH

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^{November, 2017 | A BAR, ALLEGEDLY}

The bar - if it could be referred to as such, though Dani suspected 'dive' or 'last stop before your Next Destination' would be more appropriate - was a little pungent, a little damp, and a little dingy. Low-hanging sunlight lazily filtered in through the dusty glass panes of the windows, and through the cracks between the wooden wall-boards that looked - and smelt - at least a few decades old. Besides herself, and the heavy-set man behind the bar watching his patrons through beady eyes, with a wiry gray beard and a greasy flannel shirt, there were only two or three men quietly drinking warm, cheap beer out of water-spotted glasses. They had stirred briefly when Dani had stepped in, glaring at the new intruder before turning back to their booze and their muted, introspective monologues. She wasn't sure if they had glared because of her alien youth and gender relative to the rest of the apparent demographic, or because her arrival had brought an unwelcome burst of yellow-white light in through the open door.

Dani ignored the one lingering pair of eyes and made her way from the doorway past the stained stools and low tables and up to the bar. She was hot and dry and her voice cracked and croaked in her throat as she brought it up for the first time since she had left the burnt carcass of her home. Her hand went into her jacket pocket and came out clenching a fistful of crumpled notes, one of which she put down on the counter in front of her as she took a seat across from the barman.
"Water." She said, more commanding than requesting. The barman obliged with a tall glass, and Dani gulped it down quickly and greedily before putting another note on top of the first. "Another," and so it was. A third note. "Beer." She said, and the barman hesitated.

"You ain't look old enough for that, girl." He replied, his voice as gruff and stern as his exterior. Dani could respect that kind of consistency, but she didn't respect being told no. Not right now.
"You ain't look dumb enough to ask those kinds of questions, mister. Beer?" She slapped another note down to emphasize herself, hoping to lay on equal layers of sugar and salt. The barman took a long look, and then sighed and fished out another glass from below the counter, filling it from the tap with a cloudy, copper, lukewarm-at-best liquid. Dani drank it as quickly as she had done the water, though she grimaced far more severely upon finishing.
"Goddamn, that was disgusting." She remarked, putting down her fifth and final note and pushing the empty glass back across the bar toward the taps.
"You keep payin', an' they'll keep bein' awful." He replied, and Dani gave a dry chuckle in turn.
"Now that sounds like the shrewd businessman you surely must be."

Dani let a silence fall, and then stretched that silence out, letting the slow whir of the ceiling fan play on and on as she sipped what would be her last drink for a day or two at least.
"You know the area?" She asked, and the barman simply looked on. Naturally. "You know the railroads?" He grunted in response and Dani took it as positive. "There are reliable line to Maryland? East coast?" The barman sniffed, and then sighed, leaning down on the counter.
"I done seen a whole lotta kids like you, girl. All comin' through, on way to somethin', or from somethin'. Don't ever see 'em come back, and most days I ain't in the habit'a thinkin' 'bout it. Which one'a you, eh? Runnin' to? Runnin' from?"
"I can take care of myself.
"Yeah, s'what I figured. They all say that, y'know. Every damn one'a them. Most'a 'em got some bravado on. Some got fear. Some jus' in over their heads. Some don't know better. You, though...you know. You gotta belief."

Dani said nothing. The man in the corner by the door continued to watch her, and she had surpassed feeling merely nervous about it.
"So is that a no, or a yes and you're just not going to tell me? Because, if in the case of the latter, I need to get back on the trail. I'm wasting daylight."
He took what appeared to be a final summation of her, head to toe, and then nodded, equally in acknowledgement and dismissal.
"That tin-can tool, Stark, usually gotta few shippin' crates on a regular run headed up the North-East line. I'd wager that were your best luck lie if'n your lookin' to train-hop up to the coast. Track's 'bout, I'd say, 2 miles due West."

Dani nodded in thanks, and finished her beer. She was still thirsty, but she suspected that had more to do with the lingering feelings of her skull and spine being aflame than it did with a lack of hydration. She left the bills - slightly crisp at their edges - on the bar and got up from her stool, turning on the spot and retracing her steps back towards the door. She thought to hazard a quick glance at the man who had been watching her - dust and dirt baked into the lines and wrinkles on his face and in his long, sweat-slicked hair. For a second, she thought his eyes were a striking yellow, but then they were a muddied gray and she had never doubted that they were ever anything but. He gave the slightest smirk as their gazes met and locked for an instant, and then he went back to his drink and silent contemplation of his navel and everything else besides, and Dani pushed the door open and found herself outside in the sun again. She got her bearings, and turned West, making her way towards the alleged train tracks.

She only had a few more days left in her; she hoped it was only her days that would be needed. Inside her jacket pocket, her knuckles whitened as she gripped a small wooden crucifix.

Absolute Comics: Rebirth

_{B O O K I - G E N E S I S}

A DEVIL, RUNNING

MISSISSIPPI RIVER NORTH

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^{November, 2017 | NEAR THE KENTUCKY BORDER}

Dani ran like the hounds of Hell were behind her; as far as she was aware, they were, and far worse besides. Dani remembered herself when she had been under the influence of the devil that dwelled deep within, and she was certain that far greater evils came for her now. Surely, greater still were the demons being conjured, down there in the dark pits of Tartarus. She felt it - a deep dark worm that twisted inside her, granting her a terrible knowledge of what was being prepared. A knowledge borne of experience.

Trees and bush and bramble all crashed beneath and parted in front of her, her heavy boots laying waste to twigs and weeds and insects alike. She had been running for several days, stopping only as night drew close and dusk descended around her, at which she would immediately halt and seek shelter and a way to sequester herself away from evil; she bore no fear for her own safety, nor any sympathy for the victims of what would be a righteous wrath - Dani was afraid of what would happen were the devil within was to be loosed upon the world at large. Evil's presence would draw it out as true as rain brought the worms, and naught but the sun and His holiness would seal it back within her - but the sun could not fix the damage wrought by its release, and either He turned a blind eye, or was powerless too. Dani did not ponder as to which. She could not.

For now, the sun shone brightly, bearing down on her from its high perch up above. Despite its assault, she hitched up the collar of her jacket, feeling the bitter November breeze bits at the nape of her neck and set her hairs on end. Around her, the woods chittered and chirped with life, and Dani almost found herself lost in the immutable consistency of nature - but then the wind picked up again, and the light of the sun dimmed behind ominous clouds. She quickly found her way.

To her south lay Memphis, with Dani's last 16 years in Arkansas there with it. Somewhere behind that lay a half-wrecked town with smouldering ruins. In one of those ruins lay her parents, and several more besides - and somewhere else, between Memphis and her current location heading north along the banks of the great Mississippi River, were the agents of Mephistopheles, gaining on her with every mortal step she made. She knew a guaranteed way of stopping that slow gain, a method of outpacing her pursuers unequivocally. She knew she would not - could not - utilize that method. Not unless they laid hands upon her. And if - when - they caught up to her, they would.

Dani kept moving. The state border was close.

Absolute Comics: Rebirth

_{I - T H E C A R N I V A L}

THE RINGMASTER'S RETURN

GOTHAM

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^{November 17th, 2017 | ? ? ?}

"He's out tonight."

A low orange light hummed throughout the room: a vintage zoetrope fitted with a more modern bulb, spinning clowns and ringmasters round and round the walls. It tended to induce minor motion sickness if you lingered long, but if its owner felt nauseous, he didn't show it. If its owner could feel anything, he didn't show it.

A ragged and multi-stained figure had startled and snorted back to life as the low, menacing voice had broken a silence that had lasted several days. He rubbed his eyes free of grime and dirt and coughed heavily as old lungs brought foul air into a diseased chest; the zoetrope spun and spun and spun and the concrete pillars and tarmac floor seemed to twist and warp. Conciousness battled through alcohol and sleep deprivation and drug withdrawal and eventually drifted to the top of the fetid pile this old man's mind had become, and sat up, looking directly at the speaker. He had been sat, crossed-legged and perfectly still, for three days. His suit bore no dust, and his face seemed like gleaming porcelain. He faced a wall, smeared with all manner of violent graffiti and human discharge, but his eyes were staring, never blinking, as if he looked through a window into the city and filth beyond. Joker stood.

"I can smell him. Out there, in his city, protecting the innocent! Avenging those too weak or too young or too dead to do it themselves." There was venom on his voice, and the old man just looked on, silent. Joker had cut his tongue out last time he spoke, and the shriveled thing flopped from his breast pocket. "Even after all these years, he's so...reliable." Joker spat, the mucusy glob glistening in the low gleam. The spinning light of the zoetrope played across his face like hellfire licking at cave walls. He smiled. "Karl, darling...I miss the old game. He's grown old and withered and complacent. Boo-hoo-hoo! If he knew what I did, if he could sniff out all the little worms and bugs like I can...aaah. But that's why he needs me."

Karl the Hobo looked on in silence. Joker tutted, and bent down beside him, deftly taking the tongue from his breast pocket in one hand and sliding a short paring knife out of his sleeve and into the palm of his other. Karl didn't try to scurry away, or avoid what was coming. He knew. He had known for days. Joker gently slid the blade of the knife in between Karl's lips, letting it clack against his teeth as he nudged open the old man's jaw. "You know, Karl the Hobo...I feel like we've really connected on this little winter getaway of ours...and I feel like it might be valuable-" Joker roughly stuffed the tongue back into Karl's mouth, ignoring his gags and moaned protest as he held Karl's jaw fast in his hands - "if I got some feedback from my most trusted confidant." Joker hacked, making a sound that could be mistaken for a dry chuckle, and then, knife still grasped, began to move Karl's mouth for him, Joker's own voice distorted and semi-masked.

"Well gee boss, that sounds swell! I'm sure Bats is missing you too. Even I know Gotham hasn't been the same without you!"

Joker coughed again and then pushed Karl aside, the tongue tumbling out of his mouth and making a wet slap against the ground as Karl gagged and dry-heaved, quiet sobs beginning to emanate from the worn-down old man. Joker stood and hummed quietly, seeming to think something over in brain, tossing ideas around from one side to the other. "Aah, I must admit, I have lost my muse for grand schemes in my twilight years..." Joker rounded on Karl, the paring knife twirling in his left hand as his right reached inside his jacket and returned wielding a razor, "but that doesn't mean i'm completely out of good ideas."

There were no screams; but deep below Wayne Tower, in old abandoned storm drains, terrible laughter echoed.

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GOTHAM

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^{November 18th, 2017 |}

B R E A K I N G N E W S O N G C N -

A NIGHTMARE RETURNS?

CITY UNDER THREAT? LEADERS IN DANGER? CITIZENS IN PERIL? MANY FEARS FOUND AFTER CORPSE WITH CRYPTIC MESSAGE LEFT IN CHILDREN'S PLAYGROUND.

A CONCERNED PARENT'S REPORT TURNS TO WIDE-SCALE SPECULATION AS BODY OF UNIDENTIFIED VAGRANT FOUND IN A CHILDREN'S PLAYPARK IN RESIDENTIAL AREA NEAR GOTHAM CITY CENTER.

On what was expected by GCPD officers to be a routine call-out to rouse a drunk vagrant, was revealed to be a far more chilling and complex case, as the man was found dead with extensive scarring across his chest and back, seemingly inviting all manner of criminal elements to join a so-called 'Carnivale Macabre', in what many fear to be just the first of what could develop into a series of crimes designed to strike fear into the heart of Gotham's citizens. We go now to Jack Ryder, our man at the scene...

Absolute Comics: Rebirth

What would be the consensus that the BPRD has been taken as a subsidiary of SHIELD? Is there anyone that is specifically playing anything directly with SHIELD?

@Archangel89

Would be useful to know the answer to both of these questions as I'm hoping to have Dani seek out SHIELD as her first 'fuck i need to contain Ghost Rider' port of call, and I'm sure BPRD and Hellboy might be interested in her as well.

Absolute Comics: Rebirth

T H E J O K E R

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"HA HA HA HA HA"

^{? ? ? ♦ ? ? ? ( ? ? ? ) ♦ M A L E ♦ C H A O S}

C O N C E P T A B S T R A C T:

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^{Round and round like a horse on a carousel...}
An older Joker, fearing that Batsy has lost sight of what's truly important, and hoping to return a sense of priority to the aging vigilante.

_{Will I catch up to love? I can never tell.}

He's feeling the years himself, and doesn't want to depart without showing Gotham who its citizens deserve, playing the final joke on everyone who thought their city - and humanity at large - were worthy of men like Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent.

_{I know chasing after you is like a fairytale}

Joker has been laying low, watching his empire and influence spread and take root throughout Gotham through dazed, bored eyes. He's bored of 'heroes', bored of 'villains', bored of 'good' and 'evil'. Something needs to be done.

BUT I FEEL LIKE I'M GLUED ON TIGHT TO HIS CAROUSEL

N O T E S:

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_{^{WHY DID YOU STEAL MY COTTON-CANDY HEART}}

• Friends include BATMAN and that's the only friend I NEED and I'm the only friend he DESERVES.
• Foes include _{e v e r y o n e .}